Curious Feelings
by Psychothic Kitty
Summary: Rated T for language in future chapters. An insight into the Sand Siblings’ mind after Shukaku has left. It is better this way, but whoever said it would be easier needs to get a check up on his or her mental health. NO INCEST!
1. Loneliness

Sitting on a rooftop, knees against his chest, his right arm lazily sitting atop of them, Gaara no Sabaku stated blankly at the moon, or rather at the place where the moon should be. Teal eyes, itching with the need to sleep, blinked slowly, their owner too focused on his musing to even think of rubbing them.

Yes, Gaara no Sabaku had discovered a new feeling: Loneliness.

This annoyed him to no end.

Now, one would think the young redhead would be glad to get rid of the source of all his troubles, the thing that had kept him isolated from everyone ever since he was born, the demon who had been the cause of people fearing him, rejecting him, the very one who had taken over his life for years. However, the truth was a little different of what 'one' would thing: Gaara did not know what to do without Shukaku.

The demon had been with him ever since he had been born, and without him, Gaara felt oddly lost. He had been the only one Gaara had ever talked to, the only one who did not fear him. He had always been there, torturing him, playing with his mind and twisting his sanity to the verge of breaking, but he had been there nonetheless.

Gaara's eyes moved away from the sky to stare straight ahead, his mind lost elsewhere.

Even without Shukaku inhabiting his body and mind, people still shrunk away with terror every time he looked at them. It had never bothered him before, on the contrary, it had pleased him to no end, because it meant people knew who he was, it meant being acknowledged. Now it almost pained him to see the horror in their eyes, the trembling of their hands, the way cold sweat pearled their foreheads. Every single person had this reaction. Even his siblings.

Yes, his siblings. He had come to think of them as family, as opposed to the pair of idiots who always cowered before him, voicing their opinions with trembling voices. As opposed to a pair of unworthy cowards.

With a heavy sigh, Gaara ran his hand through his hair, a dull ache taking over him. It was not physical, no; it was much, much worse. He had never cared, never given it a second thought, but he had no one to talk to, no one to even be slightly comfortable in his presence, because everyone still thought of him as a monster. A self-loving monster. A bloodthirsty self-loving monster.

And they were right, weren't they? To be afraid of him? Hadn't he soaked his sand in blood? Hadn't he taken countless lives, never giving it a second thought? Hadn't he openly threatened his siblings with dead? Didn't he kill his uncle?

Gaara swallowed heavily, clenching his fists. He could see it in his mind's eye, mothers ushering their children away, powerful ninjas trembling before him, blood splattered everywhere, Yahsamaru asking him to 'please die'.

'Please die'

Clutching at the fabric above his heart, Gaara's black-rimmed eyes closed tightly, fighting such an unbearable pain. Who could have thought an emotion could bring the great Gaara no Sabaku down like this?

Another new feeling overcame the Sand Master as he climbed down and walked into his house, it grew stronger as he passed by Kankuro's door, and almost unbearable as she passed Temari's.

Fifteen minutes later, curled upon his bed, Gaara couldn't help but smirk humourlessly at the irony of his insomnia. Before he would not dare to sleep, fearing Shukaku. Now, he feared his nightmares. Either way, Gaara no Sabaku was not destined to sleep properly.

Loneliness was a curious feeling indeed.


	2. Worry

**Author's Note:** You think it took me long enough? :p Well, I had honestly forgotten I all ready had FOUR drafts of this chapter, when I startred writing it AGAIN today... and decided for the first one anyway... so yep, 'here goes nothing' :p

**WARNING: **I _might_ have overdone it a bit with the language, so if that offends you, please don't read. Now, the reason why I did this is that I think of Kankuro as the most layed back of the siblings, and it's usually those who explode harsher. So, again, more clearly **LOTS OF CURSING AHEAD!!**

To say Kankuro was furious was an understatement. He snarled, punching the wall viciously, rage tearing him up inside, making his blood race through his veins and his body feel light with adrenaline. Now, this particular puppet master didn't get upset all that easily, much less, in this murderous state.

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Fear was a weird feeling, and Kankuro was hating it.

Ever since 'It' was removed from Gaara's body, things had changed drastically.

With a heavy sigh, said brunette leaned his aching forehead against the cool wall, closing his eyes and ignoring the dull pain on his right hand. During Gaara's whole life, Kankuro had been wondering about -and wishing for- a life in which the quiet redhead had died at birth, a life with a mother, a life in which he needn't be scared shitless every time he looked at a family member -Dad didn't count as a family member-, a life where his uncle would have told him stories and give him advice later on his life; in short, the puppeteer had been wishing for that baby to have died, for a life that had been denied to him.

Kankuro had spent fifteen years thinking his younger brother was a blood-thirsty, bad-tempered, icy, stoic, possessed bastard that shouldn't have been brought to life. And what do you know, he was right!

He had been right at least, but then that blue eyed brat, his pink haired girl and the old hag had gone and messed his logic up. Yes, Gaara was still a cold, stoic, quiet bastard, no doubt, and Kankuro had also discovered that the downright terrifying glare was all Gaara as well… but now, his silence had changed, now he didn't toss death wishes and threats like candy, now he wasn't _some_ bastard, but more like _his _bastard.

"_My _bastard?" His voice was hoarse, the words whispered, as he gently bumped his head against the wall several times. "Where the fuck did that come from?"

But it was true, and he couldn't just shove it away. Of course other people couldn't see it, but Kankuro had been stuck with the boy for fifteen fucking years, and now the glares and whispers and questions and terror did take a toll on his little brother. And it made _him_, **Kankuro**, puppet master, detached son of a bitch, rough, rude, uncaring Kankuro… protective. _**Protective**_ for fuck's sake!

Well, he had always protective of Temari -that Nara boy had learnt that bit the rough way- but that was entirely normal, she was his big sister, his Temari, his only family. Now his whole world was turned upside down. Now he felt the responsibility to care for his brother as well, he even wanted to!

But Gaara… he wasn't an easy person, and he would surely push him away. Kankuro sighed for the fifth billionth time and roughly ran his hands through his all ready messy hair… again.

Frankly, the puppet master couldn't be blamed, after all he had just acquired a brand new brother: one who didn't threaten to kill him, one who, at times, looked vulnerable and lost, one who was completely different from the old Gaara.

Seeing his younger brother in this new light was hard for him. He wanted to get closer to the redhead, but old instinct kept Kankuro where he stood, not having the guts to shatter the wall all those years and threats had build between them, the wall Gaara himself had built.

And then the soft, soft sound of Gaara climbing up to the roof.

"Ah well, here goes nothing." the brunette grunted to himself and stood heavily, opening the window of his own room and climbing up effortlessly.

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_Ne? Ne? So? ... Read and Review, yes?!_

_Nah I won't threaten with the typical: I will stop writing all together and hate everyone if I don't get 400 reviews!! _

_And that is simply because I actually do enjoy writing and don't **desperately need** reviews... but it's always nice to hear what you guys have to say -hint hint-_

_xoxoxox_


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